


The L-Word

by detectivejigsaw



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, Kind of humorous (hopefully), Mabel wants to help, Please don't tag as Stancest, Post-Weirdmageddon, Sea Grunkles, boys reconnecting, some awkwardness, with a spoonful of angst to wash it down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23704159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detectivejigsaw/pseuds/detectivejigsaw
Summary: Mabel thinks there are some things her grunkles need to relearn how to say to each other while they get to know each other all over again.  However, some things are a lot easier than others to say...Ridiculously fluffy fluff with some angst mixed in.
Relationships: All other combinations of the grunkles and kids apply, Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Mabel Pines & Stan Pines
Comments: 27
Kudos: 122





	The L-Word

“I have something for you, Grunkle Stan.” Mabel held up a small, clumsily folded slip of paper.

Stan squinted at it. “What’s this?”

“It’s a list of important things I think you and Grunkle Ford need to practice saying to each other on your boat trip. Because you haven’t said them in a long time.”

Stan unfolded the paper and adjusted his glasses so he could get a better look. It was a very short list (written in glittery purple ink, of course)-just two things were on it, in fact.

 _I’m sorry_ and _I love you._

“You don’t need to say them every day if that’s too difficult,” Mabel said hesitantly, noticing the unease on her grunkle’s face and remembering the disasters of past times when she had pushed people to say or do things they didn’t want to, “but I feel like you both should try to say them on a regular basis. Cuz when you went too long without saying them a lot of bad stuff happened.”

“... Yeah.” Stan slipped the paper into his pants pocket and ruffled her hair. “Thanks, kid.”

* * *

Neither he nor Ford had used the “L-word” all that much when they were young...or, well, ever.

Boys growing up in New Jersey in the ‘60’s and ‘70’s didn’t say it if they didn’t want to be called sissies, except maybe to their mothers or girlfriends, and even then it wouldn’t be in public. It definitely wasn’t something you said to your brother except by punching him in the arm or affectionate noogying. And nobody had said it to him and actually meant it for the last thirty years, except for his mother (and she’d thought he was Ford, so that didn’t count), and Mabel.

Just the thought of saying it to Ford created a kind of burning sensation in Stan’s gut almost as bad as saying “please.”

It wasn’t that he _didn’t_ love Ford... he just didn’t see why he needed to say it.

Saying “I’m sorry” was a lot easier. Probably because there were so many things he was sorry about-sorry that he’d been a horrible brother who wasn’t smart enough to get Ford home for thirty years, sorry for not just calming down instead of fighting with him when he needed help, sorry for starting this whole mess by not just staying away from the project so he could have gone to his stupid fancy college.

Ford had plenty to apologize for too, and he had done so at great length during this last week of summer, especially while Stan was still getting the majority of his memories back. It had been a little confusing for Stan, but also nice.

He ended up just hiding the paper away and not telling Ford about Mabel’s suggestion.

* * *

After a month at sea, there were still times when Stan wasn’t sure that he wasn’t dreaming.

He’d wake up and be confused about why the shack was shaking like that-was that tree giant thing going after his car again or was Oregon having a freak earthquake or something-until he’d remember that no, it was the waves rocking the boat up and down.

Ford would look up from writing in his journal and smile at him, and he’d get a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest that almost left him feeling lightheaded. 

They’d fight off a monster together, just like they’d fantasized about as kids, and he’d hope that _if_ this was a dream, he’d never have to wake up from it.

The fact that it all felt far more vivid than even his most intense nightmares helped reassure him that it was probably real.

Every so often they used the laptop to talk to the kids, using the unbelievably good connection McGucket had rigged up for them so they could get in touch no matter where they were.

And it was during one of their chats, while they were showing off the giant fur-covered eel they’d caught together which practically filled the whole cabin, that Mabel asked, “So, have you guys been using those phrases I gave you?”

Stan felt his stomach drop.

Ford looked confused. “Phrases? What phrases?”

Dipper appeared to be similarly bewildered.

“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel gave Stan a scolding glare. “You didn’t tell him?”

“What’s she talking about?” Ford looked at Stan curiously.

“Um-nothing! She, uh-I’m gonna go check the barometer-hyugh!”

“ _Sit down_.” Ford pulled Stan back into his seat and then removed his fingers from his coat collar. “Mabel, what phrases are you referring to?”

“I gave Grunkle Stan a paper with a list of things I think you need to say to each other more often, so you won’t fight as much.”

Ford looked at Stan until he grumbled and produced the paper, which had eventually wound up in the pocket of his coat.

Ford unfolded and read it; to Stan’s surprise, his ears darkened a little.

“Oh. I see why this could be...problematic.”

Mabel groaned.

“What _is_ it with you guys and toxic masculinity?! It’s not a big deal-just say ‘I love you’ to each other! Me and Dipper say it all the time!” She grabbed her brother and pulled him against her, smooshing their faces together.

“You say it a lot more than I do,” Dipper protested in a squished tone.

“Yeah, but you still say it! Those two haven’t said it in over forty years, and I think that oughta change!”

“It’s not something guys say to each other, okay?” Dipper began trying unsuccessfully to squirm free of his sister’s hold. “It feels weird!”

“See?” Stan said, “ _He_ gets it!”

“But it shouldn’t _have_ to be! That’s my point!” Mabel finally let go when Dipper tickled her under the armpit. “Look, Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford: you _do_ love each other, don’t you?”

Neither of the old men looked at each other, feeling the heat spreading across their faces. Hesitantly they ended up answering at more or less the same time:

“...Yeah.”

“Of course I do.”

Stan was horrified to realize that he was actually blushing, and tried to pull himself together.

Mabel sighed. “Good. At least that’s a start: you both admitted it. You just need to learn how to say it.”

The chat had to end not long afterwards, because the kids’ mother came in and scolded them both for being late for school. As soon as the connection broke, Stan jumped to his feet and headed outside for some nonspecific excuse.

He ended up leaning against the railing and watching the stars for a minute...before he heard the cabin door open, and soon enough Ford was by his side. Stan kept his eyes on the horizon.

“...Stanley.”

“Sixer.”

Ford cleared his throat. “She means well, you know.”

“Yeah. Doesn’t mean she’s not makin’ things weird.”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird.”

“Whatever,” Stan growled, shoulders hunching up around his ears.

Ford just sighed and nudged him with his elbow. “Besides, there’s plenty of ways we say it without saying it, right? Like spending thirty years trying to save someone who never deserved it.”

Stan relaxed. “Or sayin’ someone’s your hero just for lyin’ his way outta trouble. Again.”

He was given a scolding glare. “Or sacrificing yourself for your family.”

“Or helpin’ someone get as much of his memory back as possible,” Stan countered.

“Or being consistently a stubborn, brave, selfless knucklehead with a wonderfully twisted mind.”

Stan beamed. “Or bein’ the oldest nerd on the planet and still capable of beatin’ the snot out of any monster that gets close enough ta threaten his family.”

They laughed, and the last of the awkwardness dissipated.

* * *

Neither of them actually said the L-word; they weren’t ready to yet.

But they didn’t have to.

It was there, just under the surface.

**Author's Note:**

> Personally, I can relate to the boys. I'm not good at using the L-word with other people. Like, ever.  
> Maybe it's because it feels overused by the general public or something.
> 
> Hopefully this is as good as it was in my head.


End file.
